The Would Be King
by Lieutenant Tazer
Summary: Slash Steve/Tony. A broad incision divided the nation rendering it's children victims to their fathers lost war against Hydra's greed and power. "In your last hour stand because you'll notice the one that you love in your dreams is just as much a victim as you are, Captain Rogers. No one is truly innocent."
1. Chapter 1

The Would Be King

Chapter 1: Lazarus Rising

Steve heard strange voices around him, weird noises, and there was a god-awful smell of bleach invading his nostrils. Cracking his eyes open Steve quickly shut them once again to blind out the sun. Good God that hurt! Tentatively opening his eyes once again, Steve sighed when the painful, burning sensations from his eyes didn't override his brains natural functions. A movement caught his attention, dragging his cobalt eyes to the corner of the room where a lone nurse stood in the shadows; he guessed she was a nurse as she had a brightly colored stethoscope wrapped around her neck and a clipboard in her gloved hands.

"I see you're awake." She smiled sweetly before moving away from the door to head over to his bedside and assess Steve's vitals. "It's amazing that you woke up, it truly is. I'll call your doctor in. I'm sure you have lots of questions."

Starring dumbfounded at the bubbly blonde, Steve froze when she held a device to his forehead before dragging it down around the edge of his face to pivot at the angle of his jaw and rest just behind his ear. The device beeped and she seemed to hum in disapproval. She muttered something about his temperature being slightly warm but over all didn't seem concerned as she wrote away on her clipboard. This nurse was none like he'd ever seen before; weird gadgets and all. Last he checked nurse's uniforms were white, not bright pink with plastic slippers. Opening his mouth to pose a question, Steve quickly snapped his jaw shut as she bounced out of the room, leaving him to notice all the machines beeping and processing around him.

What happened while he was out? Looking around the room, Steve suddenly noticed through his sleep induced haze that nothing looked familiar and everything seemed more crisp and sharp than he was used to. Following a chord that extended from a machine to his right all the way to his body, Steve fought the urge to rip it out. Feeling his stomach painfully clench, Steve whipped his head around to stare disbelievingly at a monitor that, from he understood, was reading his body's normal output. His pulse seemed normal, his temperature was slightly elevated, and his blood-pressure was right on 120 over 80. Nothing seemed right about anything, making the small hairs on the back of Steve's neck stand on end.

The blonde girl seemed friendly enough, but Steve knew better than to trust strangers. Fearing the worst, he quickly sat up. Ignoring the dizziness that washed over him, Steve staggered to his feet, stumbling a few times before he found his balance with the assistance of the bedside table. Looking down at his arms, the soldier frowned at the tube feeding fluids into his arm. Loosely gripping the tube close to his skin, he tugged the needle free with little resistance. Wincing at the slight sting, Steve quickly moved to remove the patches across his chest. One by one they fell limply against the bed, until the last one fell a loud steady beep sounded in the room. Looking to the door where multiple nurses, dressed in brightly colored uniforms, flooded the room Steve quickly pushed past them, knocking a few to the floor.

His bare feet pounded loudly against the tile as he sprinted down the hall dodging other doctors, nurses, patients, and a few security guards who had the audacity to even try to stop him. Following the trail of exit signs down the hall towards a set of stairs, Steve took them three at a time till he reached the bottom and broke through the thick metal door, bursting into the sunlight. Shielding his eyes with his forearm for a moment, Steve quickly tore off into another dead sprint towards a landing platform. He was positive that he had reached the first floor when he burst through the door, but in his disoriented state Steve figured that the number one and the number for whatever floor he exited on were excusable. Maybe… Maybe not…

Turning to retreat back into the stairwell, the blonde soldier skidded to a halt before an assault team suited in GI Joe outfits and outfitted with high artillery. Their weapons were pointed down to the floor, while their free hands where held out in a stopping motion. "Steve, it's alright!" One called out to him in a begging tone. "We won't hurt you."

Looking over his shoulder, looking for a means to escape his fate at the mercy of these men, Steve frowned when even more men in the same attire blocked the path of egress behind him. Tossing his head between his two options, not liking the outcome of fighting either in his bewildered state, a wave of dizziness washed over his body rendering him helpless to the natural effects gravity held over the human body. Bracing his fall with his hands, Steve rapidly blinked his eyes to erase the spots from his vision when one of the men chasing him appeared at his side with a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Easy, Captain," his voice was calming.

"Who are you?" Steve snapped as he tried to jerk his shoulder away, only to fail and completely collapse against the concrete beneath him. The other soldier's hands gently rolled Steve onto his back, while another set gently cradled his head to ease the spinning. Starring up at the blonde, Steve fought the urge to pass out.

"I'm a friend." Just as the words left his mouth, Steve believed them for a moment before allowing his brain to slip into an unconscious state. "That went better than expected."

"You forget, Agent Barton, he's been in cryostasis for seventy years. A lot has changed in that time."

"Director Furry, how are we going to tell him that we lost the war?" The two men shared a look before glancing down to the unconscious Captain in their hands. There was a lot Captain Rogers needed to catch up on, because the world needed Captain America now more than ever.

A-V-E-N-G-E-R-S

He had been wandering the desert for a little over a day after escaping his captors back in the cave. He had thought about how to escape the deranged men carrying assault rifles but when it came to what were to happen after his assistant and himself were freed, Tony wanted to kick himself as he hadn't thought about that. Maybe he could have relied on the first hand knowledge of Yinsen, but seeing as the courageous—foolish—man sacrificed himself so Tony could escape he was left to wander aimlessly about the smoldering heat. He desperately wanted to smack the man across the face, as they both should have made it out of the darkness. Even if his family was dead, Tony would offer the man a work visa to come to the United States and work for him. Hell, he would have given the man a house and money just for helping him out! But what did Tony Stark know about family?

Not a damn thing.

Tony Stark couldn't remember a time when he was so happy to see the U.S. Military, or his long time friend Colonel Rhodey. He had been wandering the Registan Desert before the sight of U.S. helicopters flew up over the horizon. He wanted to cry out to them, beg for help, but when he opened his mouth only strained words passed his lips, barely audible over the loud roar of the choppers. Instead he waved his arms frantically in a crisscross motion over his head, something he learned before from Rhodey that was a standard S.O.S. for the military who was looking for soldiers. Thankfully they saw him and landed.

Collapsing to his knees as the weight of the situation finally sunk in, Tony had to force the spots out of his eyes. He was fighting between the malnourishment, dehydration, and pain just to stay conscious. Watching four military soldiers surround Rhodey, each pointing a very loaded and very dangerous Stark Industry military rifle at his head, Tony felt his insides clench at the reminder of all the young men and women who died on the initial attack on the humvee unit's traveling back to the base. The two young men and the young woman who were his escorts each lost their lives, making the billionaire feel incredibly guilty about wanting to do a live demonstration in a hot zone. Their deaths were his fault.

As Rhodey's hands reached out to steady Tony's wavering body, the dark haired man was instantly reminded that not everyone died. Thankful that Rhodey had appeared to make it out of there unscathed, Tony felt a small bit of pride well in his chest before leaning forward to rest his forehead against his friends shoulder. His muscles were ready to give out any moment, threatening to throw him into the throws of darkness once again.

"How about next time you ride with me?" Wrapping his arms around Tony's battered form the military colonel winced at the exposed wounds. Most appeared to be infected and older, probably from when Tony was first kidnapped, where as the burn marks from some unknown source and the sun burnt blistered covering the expanse of his body was enough to make any medic cringe. But a bright light caught his attention; brighter than the sun. "Tony, what is that?"

"It's—"unable to finish his thought as his body slipped into an unconscious state, Tony slumped against his friend resting all his weight against the military soldier.

"Where are those medics?" Rhodey snapped, looking over his shoulder to see the other four soldiers with their weapons still pointed at Tony. Turning back to Tony, he starred disbelievingly down at the glowing device in his friend's chest. "What happened to you…?"

A-V-E-N-G-E-R-S

**Kira: **So… I've been toying with this idea for a while and I've finally gotten around to writing it down and posting it. I'd like to start off by saying that this is my first Avengers story, and it will be mostly Movie-verse as I have never read the comics. Though I do think I may have to as the movie was freaking awesome… as I'm sure you all know. I live for feedback so let me know what you all think!

**- - - K I R A-**


	2. Chapter 2

The Would Be King

Chapter 2: The Curious Case of Captain Steven Rogers

His fist connected with deadly accuracy against the placid material of the punching bag, suspended in the air by a set of reinforced chains. The haunting words that Director Fury spoke only days before still stuck to him like super glue. Unable to shake the feeling that he wasted the last seventy years of his life, frozen in that godforsaken ship, Steve cocked his arm back before landing a devastating blow against the bag launching it twenty feet into the nearest wall. He'd lost everything and now was stuck in the year 2012 barely able to understand how to operate a simple radio anymore. Breathing deeply, filling his lungs with oxygen, Steve rolled his shoulders before turning to pick up another punching bag off the floor with ease. Any ordinary man would have struggled with such a task, but Steven Rogers was not a normal man; Professor Erskine saw to that. Clipping the bag to the hook on the ceiling, the blonde soldier took a tentative step back before resuming his boxing stance and landing blows to the new bag once again.

"I thought I'd find you down here." Steve didn't have to look to know it was Fury who had walked into the gym. "I hope you won't destroy this room again, Steve." It had been nearly three months since Steve accidently leveled the gym in his own personal anger.

Connecting the flat of his fist against the bag again, the blonde froze before darting his cold, cobalt eyes over to his superior. "That was an accident." His voice was just as cold as his eyes; uncaring.

"Yes, indeed," Nick Fury looked down at the folder in his hand. "I do admit that having you wake up in a modern hospital room probably wasn't the best way to reintroduce you to reality but you were regaining brain activity faster than we anticipated. We had no time to doddle." Leafing through a few pages, both men adverted their glances towards the television screen as it flicked from some sports channel, that the other SHIELD agents usually watched, to a news program with some sort of breaking news that proceeded to interrupt the normal television lineup.

According to the nerdy brunette, whose face occupied most of the television screen, Mr. Stark had made a safe trip home earlier that afternoon. "Howard is still alive?" This seemed impossible as the man would be well over one hundred, but seeing as how he was frozen on ice for seventy-something years nothing seemed to surprise him anymore. Turning to Nick who stood behind him, Steve frowned at the slight shake of his head.

"She is referring to Anthony Stark, Howard's son." Still leafing through the pages in the folder, Nick plucked a sheet from somewhere near the back and placed it on top of the file. "Tony had been kidnapped and was held prisoner in Afghanistan until recently. They _why_ is still very unclear."

Gazing up at the footage of the young brunette slowly descending the ramp from an aircraft, with the much needed aid of a dark skinned military officer, Steve couldn't help but notice the striking resemblance to Howard in his son. There were differences however, making Steve think Tony looked a bit more like his mom, whoever she was, but the way he carried himself even in his battered state reminded the blonde so much of Howard. How he missed that man, and how he missed the blurry memories of the 1940's.

He had just turned twenty-one and was already ready to throw away his schooling in higher education from the fine arts to fight, kill some Nazi's, and die for his country. He hadn't always had this larger than life body, that even to him seemed too large and oppressive at times, but it sure wasn't going to stop him from taking at least one Nazi to the grave with him. After being turned away multiple times, Steve had all but given up until Professor Abraham Erskine signed him up for Project: Rebirth. Initially, the blonde thought the professor had inhaled a few too many chemical fumes, but after taking the injection followed by the Vita-rays Steve was more than amazed at his body's transformation.

After being discovered in the North Atlantic by a group of SHILED agents on a reconnaissance mission, Steve wasn't sure who was more surprised to find him alive, much less looking the same as he had the same day the drone crashed into the water. Steve was told that it was because of the Super Soldier Serum, but he still had difficulties believing that a chemical injection—something that looked like it would come from your average family doctor—coupled with a few rays of light would be enough to sustain his being during his suspended animation. Steve at least hoped he would have aged, so that way he could easily submit to his own death and join those he held dear; Peggy, Howard, and of course Bucky.

"So Howard had a son," Steve turned fully to watch the dark haired man refuse medical treatment from the onsite Army Medics and in turn talk to a pretty red-headed woman who seemed happy that he was back where he belonged. The reporter continued to yammer on about the return of the billionaire prodigy until her topic turned from the return of Howard's legacy to that of some devastating pictures and video clips of men and women being terrorized, in where Steve guessed the Middle East, by weapons that of Stark Industries. Unable to gaze on at the destruction, Steve turned back to Fury. "What did you come down here for? I am almost positive that you didn't come to create small talk with me."

"The world you used to know has changed drastically, Captain, and traditional American ideals have been demoralized leading people to believe it is okay for them to go against their country and double deal to their enemies; war profiteering. This is just to start, as the world today is a much darker and more unforgivable place." Handing over the black folder to the sweaty blonde, Nick Fury crossed his arms over his chest before giving the super soldier a stern look. "I have a mission for you. Should you choose to accept it, I will be waiting out front to take you into head quarters."

Looking down to the file, Steve looked back up to tell Fury he could shove the folder where the sun didn't shine as he had no interest in doing the government's dirty work but was mildly surprised to see Director Fury had vanished. Aggravated he threw the file down onto a side table. Proceeding to rip off the tape that was protecting his knuckles, Steve wadded the strips into a ball before tossing them into the trash in a careless manner. If the American society was tainted with what he fought to protect it from—corruption—then he wanted no part in saving the sorry country's government that so easily allowed itself to be over taken by greed.

Opening the folder with little interest, Steve flopped down into a nearby stool as his mind was captivated by the death and destruction that the pictures depicted of the lives of the unfortunate American's who were being captured by HYDRA agents and being used as human test subjects, the demolished villages in other countries where American weapons were being used by the enemy to build up their own societies of madness. Then his eyes landed on a photo of a young Tony Stark who could be no more than ten years old, starring down at the grave of his parents with a man's hand firmly clasped over his shoulder. The caption of the photo said his name was Obadiah Stane. Something about the salt and peppered haired man just rubbed Steve the wrong way, making him wonder how Howard ever got involved with such a man.

Looking back up to the television screen, Steve's cobalt blue eyes locked with the face of Tony Stark as his ears listened intently to the words that spewed from the man's mouth. "—which is why, effective immediately, I am shutting down weapons manufacturing in Stark Industries—"The man from the picture in his hands appeared behind Tony within a moment to try and rebuff the man's words while steering him away from the podium and towards a man in a black suit with dark hair who quickly ushered a less than impressed Tony Stark out of the view of the local media.

Gritting his teeth, Steve stood up with the folder tucked under his arm before grabbing his gym bag and walking out the double doors to the front lobby where he saw Nick Fury waiting for him in a black vehicle, Steve recently learned was called an SUV. Ducking out of the newly rebuilt gym and into the chill of the rain, Steve paced around the vehicle to stand next to the driver's side window where Fury proceeded to crack the window just enough to allow the flow of their voices to be heard.

"Captain America was created to be the symbol of American ideals, not its government." He was soaked, his blonde hair already sticking to his head making his creamy skin seem lighter than normal. His breathing appeared to be labored, something Steve was slightly confused about, but deep down he knew he was doing the right thing; this was something that just had to be done.

Director Fury didn't say a word rather he cracked a crooked smile before rolling up his own window to block out the incoming rain droplets that were sliding into the interior of the sleek SUV. There was an audible click of the locks sliding back into place, unlocking the doors as in invitation for the young Captain to slip into the front passenger's seat. Steve took the invitation without hesitation.

A-V-E-N-G-E-R-S

Tony starred at himself in the mirror with a disgusted look upon his drunken features. Between his pain medication for the countless bumps, bruises, cuts, and fractures and the alcohol, the brunette couldn't remember the last time he had normal brain functioning's without the assistance of some sort of drug. His drug of choice was highly priced alcohol, but the Percocet tablets the military doctors provided him with were becoming a close second. For the first few days of his week back home, Tony didn't trust his own thoughts as they constantly returned to the dark grave that the cave created in Afghanistan. Waking up with a car battery strapped to his chest was his first clue that he was going to die in the dank abyss of the rocky throws. He hated feeling like this because it reminded him of being the weak child sobbing over his parent's grave; Tony Stark created his alter-ego, the billionaire playboy philanthropist who dominated the media image. But he was still that small child, who even though he loathed his parents for what they did to him, missing them desperately.

Under strict orders to stay out of the media, Tony locked himself away in the confines of his workshop running tests on the supercharged nightlight in his chest. He was still pretty impressed with himself for even being able to create such a miniature version of the device in the margins of the cave in Afghanistan, but after running multiple tests and reworking his math Tony soon realized that the reactor in his chest wouldn't last for much longer. Tinkering away in his lab, with his not-very-helpful assistants Dummy and Butterfingers, Tony was able to readjust the socket walls that clung to his ribs where a good chunk of his sternum used to be. The doctors at the military base were flabbergasted at the abnormality sticking out of his chest and forced the brunette to undergo a battery of their own medical tests followed by a series of x-rays to see what sort of damage had been done.

You could see the shrapnel from the impact blast surrounding the magnetic force of the arc-reactor as well as the missing pieces of bone from his sternum and other various changes made to the man's thoracic cavity. The medical team assisted the engineer with pulling apart and removing the reactor from the hole in Tony's chest so they could insert a new surrounding wall to protect the reactor as well as clean the surgical site. Tony could remember lying on the bed, still conscious and giving detailed instructions for what needed to be done in regards to the arc-reactor but still being under the influence of a local anesthetic. He couldn't feel much of anything this time around, just the gentle pressure of the working doctors and nurses who were just as nervous as he was.

Now making a few more minor adjustments himself, Tony looked down to the new reactor in his hand and the size of the hole in his chest. His hand surely wouldn't be able to fit to plug in the new reactor chord, and there was no way in hell he was going to enlist the assistance of his two robot assistants. Reclining back into his chair, Tony reached for his Stark-Tablet and quickly called his faithful assistant down into his workshop.

Pepper was more than confused as to what to do with the vague instructions Tony had provided and felt more than guilty for pulling out the magnetic-ring at the bottom. Able to quickly plug in the new reactor, Tony could tell she was fighting off the urge to throw a heated slap to his bicep. "What should I do with this one?" Cradling the glowing battery in her delicate hands, her bright blue eyes darted to the annoyed expression on Tony's face. She knew it was a reminder of his time in Afghanistan, but she also knew that he needed to accept what happened and that he was alive because of his brilliance. The reactor was a part of him now and he needed to accept it.

"It needs to be destroyed." Brushing coldly past his red-headed assistant, Tony moved to start barking orders at his robots to get started on cleaning up his work stations, something they should have already had done. Ignoring his minor tantrum, Pepper frowned down at the reactor in her hands knowing that all the problems the man used to have were nothing to what this would cause him. Watching as Tony slowly retracted himself into the careful shell he had created would be the hardest thing Pepper would ever have to walk away from. But she was supposed to be getting married in the next few months, not babysitting her boss. He needed to understand that Pepper wouldn't always be there for him, and she had no idea how to tell him this.

A-V-E-N-G-E-R-S

**Kira:** I felt like this was a good stopping point. Let me know what you guys think!


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